Weekend Weapons Handling
by adamwhatareyouevendoing
Summary: Colin bumps into Malcolm at the shooting range.


**A/N: Written by Katrina :)**

* * *

The sound of shooting momentarily surprises Colin when he opens the door. Admittedly, considering he's entering the shooting range, it shouldn't be that startling, but he hadn't been expecting anyone else to be in this early on a Saturday morning.

Even more unexpected is the person responsible for the noise, occupying a lane near the end of the room. Although the range is dark and the figure is shrouded in shadow, Colin knows immediately who it is.

_Of course_, he thinks wryly, wondering if he is part of some cosmic joke. _Who else would I bump into today?__  
_  
He waits until the round of shooting has finished before he approaches, so as not to startle his friend. Malcolm turns to greet the new entrant, and a smile graces his face when he sees Colin.

"I didn't know you came down here," Malcolm says by way of greeting.

"Same to you," Colin smiles, loading his selected gun. Even though Malcolm hasn't asked him the question, he continues: "I haven't been in a while, but I mean to keep up with it."

After a few rounds shooting together at the same target, Malcolm hears Colin say something.

"Sorry, Colin, I didn't quite catch that."

As they reload their guns, Colin repeats his statement. "You're really good."

"Thank you, I'm flattered - you're not so bad yourself," Malcolm jokes. "Although you probably wouldn't be saying that if you'd seen me when I first arrived: I was drifting all over the place."

Colin grins. "You got your eye in though," he says when they stop the next time.

"You don't really forget it." At Colin's questioning glance, Malcolm explains: "I used to go grouse shooting with my cousins up in Scotland when I was younger. We visited the family every year so I got quite a lot of practice."

"A Glock is a bit different to a rifle though," Colin points out, raising his voice over the noise of their shots.

"That's true. Other than today, I haven't used one since my training assessment. I practised before it, just to get a feel for the Glock." He looks down bashfully at the aforementioned weapon for a moment.

"And did it work?" Colin prompts, sensing Malcolm has more to say.

"I scored 5," Malcolm says, looking up. There's a twinkle in his eye.

Colin quirks a brow and gives a low whistle. "Impressive."

"What about you?" Malcolm asks, having watched Colin fire off another round, each bullet perfectly hitting the centre of the target. "You can't have done much worse than me," he teases.

"Mind the insults, I'm armed and dangerous," Colin grins. "I got 5 too."

"Impressive," Malcolm says, wryly echoing Colin's sentiment back to him.

"What can I say, I'm good at shooting."

"Modest too," Malcolm smiles, turning back to face the lane.

His next shots follow Colin's previous ones, straight into the centre.

"Show off," Colin murmurs - the affection colouring his voice belies the words themselves.

"So your shooting prowess must go beyond an interest in ballistics," Malcolm says, though Colin catches the question in his words.

"I learnt with a rifle too," he begins, pleased to see Malcolm turn to look at him in surprise at the coincidence. "I did a bit of biathlon years ago - you know, the skiing and shooting." At the expression on Malcolm's face, Colin grins, "I know, hard to imagine, right?"

Malcolm tries to look apologetic but ultimately fails; instead he starts to laugh. "I'm sorry," he manages. "I don't mean to be rude, but you're just so... Gangly. I mean it's probably an advantage for the skiing, thinking about it, but it's an amusing image you conjured."

"Thanks," Colin says, attempting to sound offended but failing as miserably as Malcolm. "I am armed remember?"

"Of course, do go on," Malcolm says, somehow succeeding in schooling his features into an interested expression, albeit with a slight twitch of lips.

"Yes, biathlon," Colin states again, having momentarily lost the thread of his story. "I went to America with a couple of friends for a year after university. I can't remember how we got involved with biathlon - I'm not a sporty person on principle, but I'd been skiing before and thought shooting seemed interesting so we gave it a try. I actually wasn't bad by the end, and my shooting was brilliant because you had do extra skiing distance if you performed badly, so I quickly learnt to get better."

Malcolm laughs, completely understanding that sentiment. As a rule, he keeps strenuous exercise to a bare minimum, not least because of his asthma.

"This must be easy for you then - shooting from this distance," Malcolm points out. "Aren't you 50 metres away from the target in biathlon?"

"Quite right, and also lying on your stomach at some points."

"You're daft," Malcolm murmurs fondly, his glance catching Colin's. "I've watched it on television occasionally and always thought it looked extremely difficult."

"It's even more difficult doing it, trust me."

"I'll have to trust you, I have no intention of trying it myself," Malcolm grins wryly.

* * *

After using up the rest of his rounds, Colin places his gun back. Malcolm is waiting for him at the back of the range, having finished before him on account of being there first.

As they wind their way through the Grid on their way out, a thought strikes Colin. For a moment he considers keeping his mouth shut, knowing that as soon as he mentions it, Malcolm will wonder about _his_ reason, but he also knows that unless he does something, he'll be stuck in this stalemate indefinitely.

"So, erm-" he begins, suddenly woefully inarticulate. "How come you came to the range today?" The unspoken question within this is painfully apparent: how come you came to the range today of all days? _God_, Colin thinks, _way to make it obvious_.

They're safely through the pods now, but Malcolm still feels uncomfortable answering while they're in the building. Colin seems to understand, without a word being spoken, as he instinctively waits until they're on the pavement opposite Thames House before he pre-empts Malcolm by saying: "Sorry, terrible trap question, you don't have to answer that."

"No it's alright," Malcolm smiles reassuringly. "I just didn't really want to say anything in there." He tries for a joke: "Discussing personal life at work, we can't have that."

"How about at a cafe then?" Colin manages to ask. "Do you think we could possibly discuss it over coffee?"

"I think that's a possibility," Malcolm agrees. He's been skirting around facing this issue for a long time, and goodness knows, although he'd ideally like to avoid it entirely, with every day that passes he finds it more and more difficult to remember why.

Colin leads them into a small and inviting café a few streets away. Malcolm cannot help but notice the heart-shaped red paper cut-outs adorning the window edges, and the welcoming sign on the door wishing a 'Happy Valentine's Day'. _Not for me_, he thinks bitterly. Wherever he goes, there's no escaping this commercial event - every year, for as long as he can remember, he has managed not to be bothered by it too much, but this year has finally beaten him.

When their drinks arrive and the waitress retreats to serve another customer at the till, Malcolm looks up to see Colin already watching him. He dimly realises that Colin has repeated his question from earlier, but he also notes that his friend looks faintly nervous.

Malcolm briefly wonders about lying, or at least omitting some truth, but then realises he had just told himself that he was going to face the issue.

"I needed to get away," he admits. "From my thoughts... From this." Here he gestures to the garish window display. "I thought shooting might help me forget everything else."

Colin nods, and Malcolm understands immediately that his friend's reason for being at the range is the same as his.

"You find this day difficult too," Colin says. It's a statement, not a question.

"I always have," Malcolm admits quietly.

Colin can't work out if he's surprised or not: in the couple of years that he's known Malcolm, his friend has never mentioned being with someone. Then again, he's never actually spoken about that aspect of his life, so Colin supposes Malcolm could have kept it quiet. He's a naturally shy person.

Before Colin can reply, Malcolm continues, a hint of determination showing on his face.

"I've never actually dated anyone properly, and today just reminds me of that fact," he confesses. "I've never actually been attracted to anyone, you know... Like that..." His bravery vanishes, and he trails off, looking embarrassedly at the table, worried about what Colin will think.

When he does chance a glance upwards, Colin isn't looking at him at all like he'd been expecting. He had anticipated surprise; pity; awe. Instead, there's a fond warmth in Colin's expression. And understanding. _How can Colin understand?_ he wonders. He knows that Colin has had boyfriends and girlfriends in the past - he'd mentioned a couple once, months ago, offhand. Of course Malcolm had retained that information, ready to call to mind should he ever need to remind himself painfully that Colin would never be interested in him.

Colin must read the question in his eyes, because he says: "You're not alone you know. You're not the only one who feels like that."

Malcolm knows the disbelief shows on his face as he's too slow in trying to cover it up. "My sister is asexual," Colin explains. "She researched it a while back, wanting to know if other people felt the same as she did. When she told me, I looked it up too. I understand."

For the first time in his life, Malcolm truly feels like he is accepted: there are others, other people who are the same as him - and there's Colin.

He extends his hands across the table, seeking Colin's. As their hands entwine, Malcolm braves asking the question which has plagued him for years. "Can it work?"

Colin knows what he's asking. Malcolm has of course told of his religious upbringing before, but Colin finally realises how this must have informed his views on relationships: being asexual, there would be no possibility of procreation, and the importance of marriage was something his traditional father had instilled in Malcolm from a young age.

In answering, Colin can only draw on his experience, and hopes it helps Malcolm understand. "My sister has been in a relationship for 7 years now. Her husband loves her, and he accepts her for who she is. They've even adopted a child." He hopes this news will reassure Malcolm that it is possible to just be in a romantic relationship, something Malcolm is clearly alright with as he squeezes Colin's hands, seeking the comforting contact. "Sometimes it's not easy, but then relationships never are. All I know is that if people talk to each other, they can normally work it out. And love - that helps too."

Malcolm finally allows himself to hope, and manages to reword his earlier question, his voice catching slightly on the words. He prays that he's read this right, but the warmth in Colin's gaze as he spoke those last words indicate that he has. That and the fact that he hasn't let go of Malcolm's hands. "Can we work?"

Colin smiles softly, reading the underlying question in his words – he doesn't just want to know whether Colin wants to be with him, but whether he thinks he can, knowing how Malcolm feels.

"For me, a successful relationship is founded on friendship. That's the most important thing," Colin says. "We know lots about each other, and that's what I care about - getting to know even more about you. Sharing common interests like doing crosswords together, or going to the shooting range together." Here they exchange a smile. "I was lucky enough to find out more about you today, and that's what I want to do, every day for the rest of my life. I want to spend those days with you. So yes, I think we can work."

The smile that lights up Malcolm's face is the brightest that Colin has ever seen. "Good," he says, voice rich with emotion. "Because so do I. Not least because you've helped me to realise who I am today. I was right to love you."

Colin beams back at him, expressing the same sentiment with relief.

Malcolm grins cheekily. "Just don't expect me to try biathlon, that's too far in finding common interests," he jokes.

"And here I was about to suggest you could take me grouse shooting - I take it all back!"

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading!**


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